


the world will never take my heart

by sparrowvanya



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, I do not know how to tag things, No Incest, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Whumptober 2020, all of them need hugs and deserve better, no beta we die like ben, vanya/sissy is only in like one chapter but im tagging it anyway, warnings on each individual chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 14,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26757532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowvanya/pseuds/sparrowvanya
Summary: The Hargreeves have been through quite a lot.or: oneshots for whumptober 2020
Relationships: Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 12
Kudos: 119
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. can you hear me cry out to you?

**Author's Note:**

> well. whumptober 2020, here we are. 
> 
> all titles taken from mcr songs, because why not
> 
> these oneshots aren't in any kind of order other than by prompt, and some of them aren't canon compliant, so at the start of each chapter i'll make a note of where in the timeline they fit
> 
> time: end of s1ep3
> 
> warnings: some description of reginald hargreeves' a+ parenting style
> 
> prompt: waking up restrained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus wakes up in the trunk of a car.

Waking up in the dark is normal for Klaus. Waking up without knowing where he is happens sometimes too. Waking up in a tiny, fully enclosed space, with his hands and feet bound? Not a normal thing. Not normal at all.

  


Last thing he remembers, he’d been in the Academy. Headphones in, music blaring full volume, he’d just gotten out of the bathtub and he’d been heading to his room….. at least, he was pretty sure about that. Things got blurry somewhere in the hallway. (Things had been blurry for a while before that, too.)

  


But now he was tied up in… well, the material rubbing against his face felt like the lining of the trunk of a car. ( _ Reginald _ wanted to make sure they knew.  _ Just in case, _ he’d said. What a nice, happy,  _ normal _ childhood.) So yeah, car trunk, dark as fuck, unable to move,  _ still wrapped in the fucking towel. _ Yay. Fun.

  


Against Klaus’s will, the darkness brought back memories. ( _ Hours in a mausoleum, locked away until he stopped crying. It never worked. The ghosts were loud… they were so loud…. Reginald never seemed to understand it. “You should not be afraid of your own power, Number Four!” He couldn’t explain anything to him. Not the ghosts who followed his family, the number growing after missions. Not the ones who Klaus was sure followed him, hands hovering over his back ready to grab. Not the ones who followed Reginald himself, dead from wounds he’d never seen before and never would again. _ )

  


There was tape over his mouth too. He hadn’t noticed. When he tried to talk ( _ Ben? Are you there? Is anyone there? Hello? _ ) it pulled on his mouth painfully. Whoever had him, they’d been  _ thorough. _ No help for him. Not for Number Four. The rest of them had given up on him years ago.

  
They probably wanted something from him. Like  _ hell _ would he give it to them. Whatever the fuck it was. He at least had that much dignity left.


	2. give me all you’ve got, i can take it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kidnapped. Still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise this is the last time they'll actually be sequential-
> 
> time: s1ep4
> 
> warnings: drug references
> 
> prompt: kidnapped

Klaus’s pair of kidnappers really need to up their game. It’s been  _ hours. _ He’s getting bored, at this point. 

They keep trying to get him to talk about his brother. Where he was. Where they could find him. His abilities. (They always insisted they knew about what he could do, though. Why did they keep asking if they already knew?) 

They kept asking about the Academy too. (If they knew about Five, how did they not know about the rest of them? Why didn’t they know any of his siblings at all? Why did they kidnap him without knowing who he was at all?)

No answers. He’d promised that before they even got him out of the car. Whatever they wanted to hear, they wouldn’t hear it. Besides, all of their “interrogation methods” were things Reginald had trained them out of reacting to by the time they were twelve years old.

Except now the world was starting to lose the fuzziness it had had around the edges.

Yeah, he’d been high when they’d gotten him. Of course he’d been. This was  _ him. _ Klaus Hargreeves hadn’t really been sober since…. before Ben’s death, at least. Keeping at least  _ something _ in his system kept the world quiet around him. 

Ben’s been with him the whole time, a sometimes-quiet sometimes-friendly presence in the room. He’s the only ghost who stays all the time, even when Klaus is high off his ass at some club. (Personally, Klaus has a few theories as to why this happens, number one being the fact that he’d literally been the one to summon Ben back from the edge.)

But soon, if this keeps going, Ben’s not going to be the only one. And the rest won’t be friendly. Or quiet. (The pair of assassins aren’t quiet, either. They think they are, but he’s already overheard that  _ his _ name is Hazel and  _ hers _ is Cha Cha. Or Ben told him. One or the other. Honestly, he can’t remember anymore.)

He doesn’t want the ghosts to come back. He really doesn’t. So all he has to do is wait until his kidnappers realize they aren’t getting anything and let him go. (There are more possibilities than just “let Klaus go” but he doesn’t really want to have to think about those. Doesn’t want to think about the fact that this ending in his death is more likely than one of his siblings even noticing he’s gone.)

Wait. Yeah. While tied to a chair, and with his own blood on his chest. (He’s still only covered by the towel, and it would be awkward if he gave a single fuck about modesty anymore.)

All he has to do is wait.


	3. they’re coming for you (can you save yourself tonight?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya has to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please accept some vissy content-
> 
> time: alt version of s2ep10
> 
> warnings: none i think?
> 
> prompt: held at gunpoint

It takes all of Vanya’s will not to just rush straight over to Harlan. (He doesn’t like when people come at him quickly, she knows. It always catches him off guard.) She knows exactly how he’s feeling: overwhelmed, powerless, terrified. It’s exactly how she’d been back in the FBI building just hours earlier, powers out of control just like Harlan’s were now. (Had they ended up connected after she revived him? That must be it.)

(...Since when could she bring people back from the dead?)

(Since when could she give other people her powers?)

(How much about herself did she not know?)

She manages to get him calmed down, for the most part. There’s no shield around him anymore, but his eyes still flicker white. (Was that what it looked like when she did it?) When the gunfire starts, it brings a new loss of control with it, and Harlan launches himself down into the basement and Vanya into the wall. It’s rough, but it’s a good excuse to send Sissy down with him and keep them safe. If anything ever happened to them, to her family, Vanya wouldn’t be able to handle it. There were only just about eight people in the world who cared enough about her to even talk to her, and all eight were at risk from the army of Commission mercenaries storming toward the farm.

The past day or so really just has been repeated “hey, what the actual hell” moments for Vanya. But, then again, when you grew up with the Umbrella Academy, weird ends up as the new normal.

She takes out the Commission in one go.

But then Lila’s rising off the ground, glowing the same way Vanya did. Sending her plummeting down to the ground. 

She hits the dirt hard just outside the barn.

Maybe too hard, because next time she opens her eyes Sissy is standing over her, and there’s no way she’d been fast enough to get out of the basement and over to Vanya in the time it took her to blink.

“Hey, Sissy,” she manages to say.

Sissy’s face splits into a soft smile. “Hey, Vanya.”

She’s been moved to the basement, she notices. Harlan is on the hay in the corner, curled up with his eyes closed. The gunshots outside definitely would have startled him, she understands why.

“How long….”

Sissy chuckles. “Long enough for me to get you down here.”

Vanya shifts herself so it’s easier to stand up. “What about the others?”

“I’m not sure. They were fighting-” she stops suddenly, out of Vanya’s view. 

“Sissy?”

There’s a gun pressed to her head, held by that Handler woman.

“Sissy!”

Vanya takes a step to the side, getting between the woman with the gun and Harlan. Even if…. she can’t even think about it…. she’d keep Harlan safe. 

“Get out of my way,” the Handler says to her. “Give me the kid or else.” 

no no no no no no no

She knows there’s white in her eyes.

Protect Harlan. Protect Sissy.

There are a million separate ways this can go.

The Handler has a gloved hand over Sissy’s mouth, keeping her from speaking, but her eyes say everything she can’t. Protect Harlan. Leave me.

I love you.

“Get out of my way, I said,” the Handler snarls at her. “All I want is the kid.”

Vanya won’t give her the kid.

Just let me go, Vanya, Sissy’s eyes beg. Stay safe. Keep him safe.

Vanya won’t let her go.

It’s a choice she physically refuses to make: the woman she’s loved for what feels like forever (but it’s really only been a month, just a single month out of twenty nine years without her) or the boy she’s almost come to feel is her son. Sissy or Harlan. Harlan or Sissy.

In the end, she doesn’t have to choose at all.

Allison and Luther come down the stairs as silently as possible behind the Handler, gesturing to Vanya to not let the woman with the gun know they’re there. 

“One final time. Move or-” Luther knocks her away with a single hand, and Vanya can finally breathe again.

No choices. My family stays whole. No matter the cost.

She rushes over to Sissy’s side. “Are you alright?”

The blonde nods. “Harlan-”

His powers are sparking up again. She’s going to need to see if she can take back what she accidentally gave away, or this is going to be happening far too often.

Kneeling at the boy’s side, she grabs his hands and tries to do the reverse of whatever she’d done by the side of the lake. There’s no feeling or anything involved, but the light around them dims and vanishes, and Vanya’s about 90% sure she managed to do it.

Well. Maybe a bit less than 90%. This is all still pretty new to her.

But everyone lived. That’s good enough for her.


	4. and you made me who i am (be afraid of what i am)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Academy is collapsing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the shortest one i've written, they only get longer after this
> 
> time: beginning of s1ep10
> 
> warnings: none
> 
> prompt: collapsed building

With Vanya bringing down the house around them, not a single Academy member was safe.

All of them had been  _ inside _ the building, of course. It was a mad scramble for the exits as the walls shook, things crashing down around them. It was lucky the chandelier had fallen days earlier, or else either Klaus or Diego might have ended up pinned under it.

It’s only Luther and Allison who actually  _ see _ Vanya during the whole thing. It’s only the two of them who see her questioning Pogo, voice colder than they’d ever heard it before, face blank. Only them who watch as she picks him up with a single gesture, leaving him hovering feet in the air for agonizing seconds. As she throws him into the antlers on the wall with barely a twitch. As she walks over to watch him die, eyes glowing white and skin far paler than usual.

They scramble to leave before those eyes turn on them instead.

Jagged cracks spike up the walls, splitting wider and wider, until, finally, as soon as Vanya steps out the front doors, the entire building crumbles to rubble. 

(They came  _ so close _ to getting everyone out. Mom didn’t make it. Pogo didn’t make it.)

The Hargreeves can’t do anything but stare. Their childhood home, gone. Robot mom? Gone. Pogo? Gone. 

Vanya? Might as well be gone, too.

“I told you she was a threat,” Luther said.


	5. you said you read me like a book, but the pages are all torn and frayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya checks the attic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this might genuinely be one of my favorites i've written for this. i just love it a completely reasonable amount
> 
> time: alt version of s1ep7
> 
> warnings: leonard. leonard is the warning
> 
> prompt: failed escape

She finds the book and the body at the same time.

Leonard had left them both sitting in the attic, out in the open. Helen’s body was wrapped in a sheet, eyes staring sightlessly into the wall. Reginald’s red journal, the very same one that Vanya had always watched him writing in during her siblings’ training, was sitting on a trunk, carelessly left sitting in the open.

The world Vanya had been living in for days (the one where there was  _ someone _ , just one person, who thought she was actually special) came crashing to the ground in an instant. 

_ Leonard had the book. Leonard killed Helen. Leonard isn’t who he said he is. _

_ Leonard had the book. _

Leonard had the book.

She’d only been up in the attic to grab a new lightbulb (the old one had shattered for some reason, and she had no clue why) while Leonard had been out doing… something without her, leaving her alone in his house for the first time since they’d met. And, well…. she’d barely ever been upstairs. Never in the attic.

It made her feel vaguely nauseous. The fact that she’d been living with a killer…  _ in love with _ a killer….

Little red flags that  _ anyone else _ would probably notice started jumping out at her. That woodcarving had been finished  _ really quickly _ , hadn’t it? And Allison had said he was in her apartment… the day before her pills had gone missing. Had he  _ taken them? _

The lightbulb in the attic burst above her head.

….. _ Leonard had the book. _

Before Vanya can lose her nerve, she picks up Reginald Hargreeves’ red journal for the first time in her life… and turns to the bookmarked page.

_ Number Seven. _

The more she reads, the more her hands start to shake. Another lightbulb pops downstairs, but she doesn’t hear it past the  _ noise _ ringing in her ears.

It was her breaking the lightbulbs. Of  _ course _ it was her breaking the lightbulbs. Because she had  _ powers. _ Suppressed ones. Or, well….  _ formerly _ suppressed ones.

The room feels too small, walls pressing in on every side. She just… needs to get out of there, out of the house, away from  _ Leonard’s things _ and  _ Helen’s dead body _ and that damn  _ book…. _

Vanya can’t escape the book, though. Even as she stumbles down the stairs towards the house’s front door, it stays firmly gripped in her hand.

(Half the glasses in the kitchen shatter, but she can’t hear them break.)

She’s five feet out the door when she hears  _ his _ voice.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She freezes.

Leonard Peabody is standing casually next to the driveway, car keys in one hand and the other in his pocket. That  _ smirk _ had settled on his face again, the one she used to think was endearing, but now it was just….  _ wrong. _

Vanya tries to move the book behind her back, keep it out of his view, but the movement catches his eye. “I was leaving,” she says quietly.

“You read it, didn’t you?” he asks. She hesitates for a second, feet still frozen in place, and he takes that as a silent  _ yes. _

“Here.” Leonard holds out a hand. (Was it the same hand that cleared the way for Vanya to get first chair?) “Give it to me.” They’d ended up just feet apart, and Vanya takes an instinctual step backwards, still holding the worn red book.

“Vanya, you know I only want the best for you! I got you first chair! Without me, you’d still be alone in your apartment playing the violin!” Every word that comes out of his mouth feels exactly like something that would have worked on her just hours ago. The book? The body? They changed everything. Leonard was clearly trying to calm her down, inching slowly closer with each sentence, hand still held out to take the book, but his words just keep adding to the buzz in Vanya’s ears. “Your family, they never cared! I can care!”

He grabs Vanya’s arm.

In that instant, three things happen.

One. The buzz drowns out the rest of the sound in the world. It’s all quiet, except for the buzzing.

Two. Vanya makes the decision to never have to listen to another word that comes out of his mouth.

Three. Her eyes flash white, and Leonard is sent  _ flying. _

He crashes to the ground on the other side of the street and doesn’t move.

(Somewhere, somewhen, possibly outside time itself, Vanya’s brother steals a briefcase. And time rolls backwards, a full day erasing itself from history to be played over again.)


	6. when you’re dead and gone, believe me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben thinks about the Horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ben time. i'm sorry. please don't kill me for this (you know who you are)
> 
> time: pre-canon
> 
> warnings: vague suicidal thoughts?
> 
> prompt(s): “get it out”/no more/“stop, please”

The Horror likes to be restless sometimes. Ben can feel every movement it makes, squirming deep in his stomach, and it’s horrible to feel.

There’s nobody he can talk to about it, even. None of his siblings have a power anywhere close to his. They get the glory, while he gets distrust and disgust. (Nobody trusts the kid who can kill them if he accidentally loses control for a second.)

Vanya’s always an option. As the ordinary sibling, she’s willing to listen to anything. He doesn’t want to shove this onto her shoulders, though. The Horror is his and his alone. It’s monstrous and uncontrollable. (And painful, too, sometimes.)

Father keeps trying to get him to figure out how to truly control his inner monster. Ben doesn’t  _ want _ to, sometimes. Control means more missions, and more missions means more days coming home drenched in blood that isn’t his own. (It’s never his own. The Horror likes to make sure of that.)

He doesn’t want any more of the superhero life. Wants to move out of the Academy and try to make it on his own. Klaus would come with him, he was pretty sure. He’d been going slowly downhill since Five had left, two years earlier. (Possibly even since before that.) Maybe Vanya would come, too. Half the house leaving at once. Father would throw a fit.

Ben wants the Horror to  _ stop. _ Wants to be able to pretend he could ever live a normal life with a monster inside him. (Wants to pretend it doesn’t make him a monster too.) Some days, he just wishes he could rip it out of himself, leave the tentacles writhing on the ground and walk away from them.

(He gets his wish two years later. He never walks away.)


	7. if you save my life (i’ll be the one who drives you home tonight)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya's siblings come to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> birthday present to myself: 1k of vanya content
> 
> time: s2ep9
> 
> warnings: references to both torture and major character death
> 
> prompt: support

Vanya comes back to the real world all at once, and she remembers  _ everything. _ She’d almost expected it all to come back slowly, but it doesn’t. It can’t. It already went the slow way once.

She should be more shaken up about everything that just happened. Should be breaking down over torture, over watching her brother die, over being forced to relive her entire life from birth to the apocalypse (the first time through).

The people who’d been in the room (questioning, controlling, watching) line the walls as bodies, their eyes burnt black. Judging by the fact that Ben had found her, her power had escaped the room too. How many were dead this time? (Five had said there’d be a second apocalypse, and it would have been today. If she’d stayed in that chair too much longer, would it have been her causing it again?)

(“Is there any way tacos could cause the end of the world?” she’d asked. Well, in a roundabout way, they almost did, didn’t they?)

She lets herself breathe for just a second, still pretty shaky from the electricity forced through her veins, before forcing herself to move, trying to get the leather straps off her wrists so she could move. Somehow they’d managed to survive her explosion when not much of the rest of the room had stayed intact.

She can’t get them off. They’re designed to not be removable from inside the chair.

That’s when Klaus, Allison and Diego open the door.

Vanya can’t really help the wave of relief that soars through her chest when the three walk in. (But should she really be relieved? She was too dangerous. What if she lost it again and killed them too?) They rush to the side of her chair when they see, unstrapping the tight leather and finally letting her move again.

No matter how much she rubs at her wrists, the itchy feeling won’t go away.

“Vanya, are you…  _ okay? _ ” Klaus asks her.

She swallows. “For the most part, I think so. Got a few decades of memories I didn’t have coming in here, but…” Vanya wants to tell him about Ben right then and there, but she can’t find the words. Might never find the words.

She tries to stand up and her legs nearly give out under her. “Alright, maybe not as okay as I thought.”

Klaus and Allison move to support her before she can actually manage to reach the floor.

“Wait, you just got your memory back?” She refuses to look Diego in the eyes. 

“Yeah. All of it. Everything.” She pauses, trying to collect herself. “I’m sorry. For everything that happened during those days. And everything before it too.” (No meeting his eyes. She can’t bear to see his emotions.) “And for the rest of you too. Everything.”

_ I don’t deserve to live, _ she remembers saying to Ben just minutes earlier. Maybe it wasn’t entirely true, but she doesn’t deserve to stay free. Doesn’t deserve to keep her powers, all that uncontrollable destructive force. (And, maybe, to a certain extent, doesn’t deserve to live.)

She’s back to shrinking in on herself, even with Klaus and Allison trying to hold her up, because she  _ literally destroyed the world _ and she doesn’t deserve her family. The same ones who almost killed her, and the same ones who decided not to. The same ones who decided she could be better than who she was for one day of her life.

“I already forgave you, Vanya. We all did. Remember?”

_ What? _

“I don’t….”  _ deserve it, _ she tries to say, but it won’t come out. She remembers, of course she does, thirty years of life are burned onto the back of her eyelids right now (every time she closes her eyes, every time she blinks, she sees something) and she can’t forget a bit of it.

Can’t forget almost killing her own family, just so she could have a concert to herself.

“Klaus, can you see Ben right now?” Vanya needs to tell him.  _ Has _ to tell him before she loses her nerve. If she thinks too much right now, she’s going to break down, and she can’t do that. Not yet. They aren’t safe yet. (Maybe won’t ever be safe.)

Vanya’s legs are mostly stable now, so Klaus lets go of her arm and takes a quick look around, poking his head out the door in a manner that would be almost comedic if he wasn’t looking for his own dead brother. “....No, actually.”

“He’s…. the one who saved me, in the end. Ben managed to get me to stop my powers, he somehow appeared in my mind, and…” She takes a slightly shuddery breath. “Klaus, he didn’t make it back out.”

“No,” Klaus says instantly. “He couldn’t have. He was already-”

“He’s gone, Klaus,” she tries to say as kindly as possible.

“No, he  _ can’t _ be,” Klaus says, glancing around the room like Ben’s hiding behind one of the bodies on the floor. “I’m just gonna-” He vaguely gestures out the door, stumbling out a second later.

Diego sighs. “I’m gonna go after him. Make sure he’s okay.” He leaves, calling after Klaus to wait up for him.

Vanya and Allison are the only two left. It’s the first time they’ve been alone together since the cabin, and it adds tension to the air in the room.

She’s probably still in shock over everything that just happened. That’s why she’s so numb to the whole thing. It’ll break hours later and leave her an emotional wreck, but for now Vanya just needs to  _ deal with it _ . 

Vanya tries to look Allison in the eyes, catches a glimpse of the scar on her neck on the way there, and decides maybe it’s not the best idea. 

Allison puts a hand on her smaller sister’s shoulder, trying to offer support. “Vanya. Are you.... actually okay, after all that?”

“I don’t even know anymore.”


	8. all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please do not question why so many of these are vanya-centric i just think she's neat-
> 
> time: s1ep9
> 
> warnings: none
> 
> prompt: isolation

Her family is  _ right on the other side of the door, _ but no matter how hard she bangs on it or how loud she yells, Luther won’t even turn around.

The old soundproof cell from back when she was four years old hasn’t been used since then, but it’s completely clean, dust-free. Had Mom and Pogo been keeping it clean and ready all these years? Had they always been prepared for Vanya to find out about her powers?

Had they always planned just to lock her away immediately? Rumor her again? Put her back on the meds?

The walls, lined with those spikes, felt like they were closing in. Was the room always that small? Was the window always that dirty?

Was her entire family walking away now? Leaving her alone, to rot in her childhood prison?

_ No. Allison _ .

There was a bandage around her neck, and she was writing on a notepad instead of speaking (vocal cords severed…. might never speak again….) but she was  _ alive _ . Not dead, not growing cold on the floor of a cabin in the woods.

_ Let her go, _ the notepad said when Allison held it up. 

“Allison! Please! I’m sorry!” she screamed through the glass. There wasn’t a point, Vanya knew. They couldn’t hear her. Reading lips, maybe, but none of them would do anything about it.

When the one locking you away was the biggest and strongest of them all, hope faded fast.

They left her alone. For real, this time. She watched, banging on the door and screaming, as they all went back to the  _ normalcy _ of upstairs.

Klaus spared her one last glace, but he left too, herded out by Luther.

Alone in her childhood  _ hell. _

She’d been able to hear so much over the past few days. Things that would normally be quiet or even silent (the brook by the cabin, dozens of feet away; the electricity buzzing through the walls, which nobody else even seemed to notice; leaves beating together in the wind) jumped out at her constantly.

Now there was nothing. Nothing but her own breathing, ragged and painful from the screaming.


	9. save yourself and i’ll hold them back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are very few of these that i think could be made into a longer fic. this is one that probably could be.
> 
> time: post-s2
> 
> warnings: ...maybe a little bit of (temporary) major character death
> 
> prompt: "run!"

The Sparrows are on their tails.

The Sparrows have been on their tails for  _ weeks. _ Ever since the Umbrella Academy had shown up in 2019.

Ben’s definitely the only one of them who managed to actually stay in this second timeline, their new one. The rest of the Sparrows have  _ wildly  _ different powers from anyone they know. Klaus swears he saw one of them  _ turn into birds _ once. (Plus, there’s that green cube. Was that a human? Had that been a human? They all hope it wasn’t a human.)

But they’re cornered now.

There isn’t enough time for them to all get out of the building they chose to spend the night in. The Sparrows have them surrounded, blocking the exits.

They won’t all make it out.

So Klaus sucks it up and makes a decision.

“Go on without me, guys.”

They all stare at him. “Klaus-”

“No. I have a plan.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “I need you to trust me, guys. But I also need you to  _ run. _ I’ll meet you later. I promise.” (He has no way of knowing he’ll make it out, other than a hunch. Sometimes a hunch is all he needs, though.)

“We won’t just leave you, Klaus!”

“Yes, you will!” Footsteps echo through the hallway that leads outside. “Now.  _ Run! _ ”

This time, at least, his family listens. As their footsteps fade into the distance, Klaus takes a deep breath and braces himself for the person who’s undoubtedly about to step through the door.

It’s Ben.

Well, that strange alternate Sparrow version of Ben, the one who looked like an emo teenager who never knew when it was time to just cut his hair. Not the one Klaus had grown up with and spent most of his time with for the past sixteen (...seventeen, now?) years of his life. Not the dead one.

Not-Ben takes a quick scan of the room. “Only one? Shame. Would have liked to have gotten you all at once. It would’ve been easier.”

They’re standing ten or so feet apart, near the same distance as when they’d first seen each other way back in the Academy, and it’s too far and too close at the same time. Too far, because that’s  _ Ben _ , that’s his  _ brother, _ and he’s so close but so far. Too close, because that’s  _ not _ Ben. Whoever he is, he’s wrong, and it almost feels like it’s grating on Klaus’s skin like some kind of…. grater. (He’s never been that poetic, okay? It was hard enough when he was drunk, but sober? Nope.)

Klaus takes a step forward, closing the space between them just that tiny bit, and Not-Ben visibly tenses, readying for a potential attack.

“Ben…”   
  
“That isn’t my name. Why do you keep calling me that?”

And Klaus freezes.

He never considered that Ben might not even have the same  _ name _ this time around.

“Because, uhhhh….”   
  
“Oh, can we just get this over with?” A tentacle shoots out and grabs Klaus around the waist.

“So we’re doing this, then? Oh, I can deal with this. You see, once-” Another tentacle winds itself over his mouth. 

“Will you just  _ shut up? _ ” Not-Ben, whoever he is, is probably  _ pissed _ . Whoops. “Father said I needed to bring you back to the Academy. He never said it had to be  _ alive. _ ”

Shit.

_ Shit. _

_ Shitshitshitshitshit SHIT. _

He’s still got a chance of surviving this, he knows. But the little girl upstairs will be  _ pissed _ if he shows up again.

Oh,  _ fuck _ that. No reason why he should care what she thinks. Klaus needs his family to stay safe and stay alive right now.

So he closes his eyes and lets go.

(Number One watches as his target stops struggling and goes limp. He doesn’t truly notice when the man’s heart stops.)

Klaus wakes up. He always does. It won’t change anything anymore.

Maybe his family’s safe, but he definitely isn’t.


	10. these are their hearts but their hearts don’t beat like ours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is. five time
> 
> time: alt end of s2ep10
> 
> warnings: descriptions of blood and injuries
> 
> prompt(s): internal bleeding/blood loss

Time travel, in Five’s experience, has some strange effects. He’s about 90% sure that traveling back in time (to a moment where he existed) would either replace his past self with his future self or transport his consciousness into the version of himself that existed then. (He’s leaning more towards the second one, because that’s the one that seems more likely.)

It’s the first one. Shit.

_ Seconds, not decades _ , this time. Just enough time to not have to watch his family and himself die. So Five summons the last of his strength and flings himself back through the seconds, reaching for the moments before the Handler had stepped into the barn with a loaded gun in her hands. 

It’s an even stranger experience than usual. Instead of ripping through the fabric of the universe, he watches the seconds reverse themselves with his own eyes. (His entire family revives while he watches. He’s seen them die three times, but watching them come to life is a first.)

Running on pure adrenaline, he heaves himself to his feet, positioning himself behind the door and wrenching the gun out of the Handler’s hands when she comes in. 

They’re safe. He won, this time.

So why does he feel like he still lost?

Blood starts to blossom across the chest of his shirt.

Ah. So that’s why.

Time travel doesn’t fix bullet wounds, does it? Just rewinds them to a past state. (Back before his family died for the third time. Back before the blood loss was near-fatal.)

Five’s probably bleeding internally. There isn’t much time left if he is.

But the adrenaline’s wearing off, and he can’t find the strength to keep his feet under him. Five’s knees buckle, and he tumbles to the barn floor.

It’s only been seconds since the Handler made her entrance (...and subsequent exit) and his siblings have barely even had time to react, but they rush to his side anyway. All five of them.

“It’s alright, guys,” he says. “All the bleeding’s internal. That’s where the blood’s supposed to be.” (It isn’t just internal, they can all see that, cream vest slowly turning a deep red.)

None of them quite manage to stay levelheaded. Nobody would in a situation like that, watching their younger-older brother maybe-bleed out on the floor. But Vanya manages to run back to the house and grab the bandages from the cabinet, and between the six of them (well… three, pretty much. Luther’s hands are a bit too big, Klaus is drunk again, and Diego’s always been better with hurting than helping) they manage to get Five patched up to the point where he isn’t at instant risk of bleeding out.

If they’re about to go back to 2019, within minutes, it only needs to hold until they can get to Mom, right?

But just because something’s patched on the outside doesn’t mean it’s  _ fixed. _

They still need to get back urgently. Five’s lost blood, enough that he definitely needs at least some sort of medical attention. Allison forces him to sit on the porch while the rest look for a briefcase, even though he’s the only one who really knows what the six of them are looking for. (Whatever Diego said about spending time at the Commission, Five wouldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. And, at the moment, he doubted he could even pick Diego up. Not without quite a lot of pain.)

His head is starting to get slightly blurry, bandages wrapping his chest and side slowly growing damp and sticky with red. They need to get back to 2019, and they need to get back  _ now. _ Before he loses too much blood to keep himself awake. 

It’s right then that they manage to bring him an actual working briefcase.

Five ignores the tiny trembling of his fingers on the controls as he programs in their destination. April 2, 2019. The Umbrella Academy. The day after the apocalypse.

If it all went right, if everything stopped like it was supposed to, he’d be under Grace’s care within ten minutes.

It all went right.

Didn’t it?


	11. stop asking me questions, i’d hate to see you cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops
> 
> time: s2ep8
> 
> warnings: uhhhh. non consensual drug use, a bit of torture
> 
> prompt: defiance

How was she supposed to know she could speak Russian?

Ever since the day she’d met Sissy, Vanya’s memory had been hazy at best, completely gone at worst. She was lucky she’d remembered her name. But  _ Russian? _ She was American, right? That was what her siblings had said when she’d met them. So why could she speak completely fluent Russian?

After knocking her out in the first interrogation room (in her defense, she really  _ had _ just wanted to get the man away from her, not injure or kill him like they’d thought) they’d strapped her to a chair.

Vanya knew what was coming. It wasn’t hard to guess, with the straps around her head, wrists and ankles, feet bare in the water. Electricity. They wanted to use electricity.

How can she tell them what they want to hear if she can’t remember anything?

She’s dazed and confused, having barely woken up when they start shooting questions at her, and it barely passes her mind to  _ answer _ them.

If she says something they don’t like, they’ll just shock her, right?

Better to say nothing at all, and leave it at that.

Except then they get angry. Then they look at her and decide she needs more motivation to be compliant.

Drugs would never help with anything like that, but the government wouldn’t learn that for a few more years. For now, it was one of their preferred options.

As the room swims around her, Vanya tries to stay focused, but she’s being drawn back into her own mind, and she can’t stop any of it.

If that was what defiance got her, then maybe it was better to just give it all up next time.


	12. i think they never liked you anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this two vanya chapters in a row? i think this is two vanya chapters in a row. whoops
> 
> time: s1ep9
> 
> warnings: none
> 
> prompt: broken trust

Allison’s dead. 

_ Allison’s dead. _

Vanya can’t forget how it had felt to hold her sister’s dying body in her arms, watching the blood gush from her throat. Can’t forget how  _ horrible _ it felt to not be able to do anything at all. (She can’t forget how wonderful it had felt, just for a moment, to get her to stop talking.)

Leonard had helped her through it, held her as she cried, but now he was dead too (he’d lied to her, it was better this way, if he was dead he couldn’t hurt her, not ever again) and Vanya only had one place left to turn.

She steps through the doors of the Umbrella Academy for the first time since she’d stormed out of their “family meeting” with Leonard by her side.

She’s aware she looks like an absolute wreck, but who wouldn’t? There are tear tracks streaking her face, and her hands feel like they have a constant tremble to them.

But she needs to tell them.  _ Everything. _ About Allison, about Leonard, about  _ herself. _

Luther meets her in the foyer, talking quieter than normal, but she’s so relieved to see him that it barely even registers. “ _ I’m sorry, _ ” are the first words that leave her lips, because she is, she’s so sorry that she slipped for a moment, lost control of herself like she always thought she would one day, that she dared to think she was anything more than just little Number Seven and now Allison’s  _ dead _ because of it. (But those hadn’t been her real thoughts, had they? They’d only ever been that rumor, rattling around inside her head for two and a half decades without her knowledge.)

“Allison isn’t dead.”

The words are such a  _ relief _ that she can’t believe them. He’s got to be lying to her, trying to get her to calm down whatever way he knows how. (The only way their  _ father _ had ever taught him.)

(He’d never had to calm her down before, had he? Vanya had always been the calmest one in the family. While she’d been on her meds, at least.)

He opens his arms wide for a hug, and it’s such a strange gesture for Luther and yet so familiar that Vanya moves in instantly, accepting the comfort she’d been denied for so long, the comfort she was  _ finally _ being offered by her family.

And then he started squeezing.

She really needs to stop expecting anything at all from her family. They’d given her nothing for over twenty nine years, and clearly they weren’t going to start now

Not any of them.


	13. dry your eyes and start believing (there’s one thing they’ll never take from you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no medical knowledge at all so please enjoy what i could figure out from one (1) google search
> 
> time: pre-s1
> 
> warnings: vague references to vomiting and similar stuff
> 
> prompt: chemical pneumonia

He’ll never regret anything more than that last mission. The only one he’d ever done completely alone. The one that left him permanently changed. The one that got him sent to the Moon.

The mission itself is mostly a blur. It’s the aftermath that’s always been clear: Luther’s new body and everything that followed.

Apparently chemical burns couldn’t be completely healed with whatever serum Father had used to save his life. Externally, yes, with the side effect of… added monkey. Internally? It had already leached into his bloodstream. Biological weapons hurt like a  _ bitch. _

Dealing with suddenly having the torso of an ape was hard enough. Luther still flinched every time he looked in the mirror too quick, cringed at the sight of his own hands, lost control of his own strength and tended to break things too easily. But the side effects of the poison in his blood were an added pain. It was like when all seven siblings had gotten the flu one year as kids, but  _ worse. _ He kept coughing  _ stuff _ up. His head hurt constantly. Everything hurt constantly, and sometimes his head would spin badly enough that he nearly tripped over his own feet. 

_ Chemical pneumonia, _ he hears Grace mention to Father one day, plastic smile still stuck on her face, when neither of them think Luther can hear.  _ He should be over it in just a few days. _

He wasn’t over it in just a few days. 

Two months later, when Father decides he’s ready to go back on missions after the most recent disaster, he’s still got a lingering cough and tiredness.

Luther barely makes it out the Academy door.

(The next mission after that one sends him to the Moon, and he never sees his father again. Not in that timeline, at least.)


	14. we are not the same, and we are all to blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep updating this later and later lmao. time is weird huh
> 
> time: pre-s1
> 
> warnings: some description of burning flesh
> 
> prompt: branding

Reginald didn’t get some normal tattoo guy for the Umbrella Academy’s tattoos. That wasn’t good enough for him. Not much actually was.

One’s wrist is burning as he sits in the chair. Burnt flesh smells  _ horrible _ , they’ve all found out that day. They’d all cringed when it had first filled the room. Now, four kids into the six, they’ve all gotten numbed to it. (At least, they think they have. Every so often it’ll catch them off guard again.)

The man’s needle, or whatever it actually is, sears a line of black across his wrist. It burns like fire, slowly curving into the shape of an umbrella enclosed by a circle.

Two, Three and Four have identical marks on their wrists now, standing behind him, he knows. (Three and Four had been comforting each other, but Two would be standing there trying to keep the tears from leaving his eyes. It’s how they’d all always been. The lower the number, the less emotion they were allowed to show in front of Father.) Five and Six are both watching from their chairs, visibly bracing themselves for what’s coming.

(Seven waits on the stairs behind them all, desperately wishing to be one of them despite the pain. A marker will have to do instead. She can be one of them if she has the mark too, right?)

Minutes later, the six of them are all done, black maybe-ink burning on their skin. The tattoo (closer to some form of brand) on their wrists can’t be removed.

Part of the Umbrella Academy once, part of the Umbrella Academy forever. Even if one of them actually did make the choice (took the chance) to leave one day, they’d never be able to take that mark off.

They were marked for life now.


	15. i’m just a ghost (so i can’t hurt you anymore)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time: s2ep7
> 
> warnings: somewhat non consensual possession
> 
> prompt: possession

Ben had been different for days. Ever since he’d found out.

Yeah, he’d changed over the past sixteen or so years, but Klaus had never seen him like  _ this _ . Watching like a hawk, waiting for his moment to strike.

So he gave Ben his moment willingly. He’d have it no matter what, whether or not he had to  _ take _ it, so Klaus might as well give up his free will  _ willingly _ , right?

It was horrible. Every single second of it.

For one, they’d laid down rules, and Ben broke every single one of them within minutes. He’d promised to give Klaus’s body back within a few minutes, too, and yet a full half an hour had passed between the mansion and the alleyway, Ben and Klaus fighting for control the whole way there.

Diego calling  _ Ben _ the responsible one hurt. A lot. Because hadn’t Klaus changed over the past three years? Hadn’t he stayed clean, built himself a life? Diego had ended up in an  _ asylum _ , he didn’t exactly have a right to talk about responsibility. Yeah, he was reuniting with the brother he hadn’t seen in thirteen years, but still. Ben was Klaus’s conscience,  _ the responsible one. _ Until, suddenly, he wasn’t. Until, suddenly, all that really mattered to him was getting a taste of the life he hadn’t had in nearly two decades.

Klaus had been shoved back into a corner of his own mind, forced to watch and listen while Ben  _ took over. _ He’d managed to be a better Klaus than… well,  _ Klaus. _

_ Everyone had thought he was Klaus. Nobody had even thought to question the fact that he was acting weird. _

Sixteen years with Ben had just taught him how to imitate Klaus, hadn’t it?

It stung, knowing how easily he could just be replaced. They’d never wanted him in the first place. What happened when they stopped caring if it was  _ him? _


	16. for all the ghosts that are ever gonna haunt me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm pretty sure i made a tumblr post about this idea at some point, but. do we really know this didnt happen-
> 
> time: possibly alt timeline, but definitely pre-canon
> 
> warnings: reginald's a+ parenting style
> 
> prompt: hallucinations

Reginald never believes Number Four’s stories.

Then again, they’re pretty strange for a child his age. At six years old most children are talking about their own fantasies. Number Four describes the most gruesome of deaths like he’s seen them with his own eyes.

He dismisses the claims that the boy  _ did _ see them with his own eyes. Nothing but hallucinations. Number Four’s power is his telepathy, and that is that.

(But then the dead start to talk. But then the telepathy gets dangerous. But then he needs to bring in Number Three and wipe it all away.)

( _ I heard a rumor you didn’t have powers. _ )

(For some reason, this time, it doesn’t seem to work. Maybe Number Four was too old now. Maybe Number Seven simply hadn’t been strong enough after all.)

Number Four mentions how the shapes have faded to shadows on the edges of his vision, and it’s slightly worrying.

It’s worrying that they aren’t gone.

It’s worrying that these  _ hallucinations, _ these ghosts, haven’t just vanished like they should have, if they had been related to powers in the first place. (If Number Four had had value past the ability to launch things across the room when he got overemotional… which was rather often.)

But, if this was not something that could be used, Reginald Hargreeves would be stuck with two uselessly ordinary children instead of simply one. 

So he adapts.

Number Four communicates with the dead, and that is his  _ only _ power. And if this power truly is just the hallucinations of a child, then it will be dealt with accordingly later.

For now, Reginald is mainly concerned with making sure what he’s done never comes to light. A handful of well-directed rumors should fix it all. (Bury it all so deep it never sees the light. Never again.) The children haven’t been revealed to the public yet, they’re  _ far _ too young, and so there is nothing that can break this deception.

Not a single thing.


	17. just a man, i’m not a hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally... diego content.....
> 
> time: (slightly alt?) s1ep7
> 
> warnings: mentions of canon character death
> 
> prompt: wrongfully accused

Diego never should have left prints at the scene. Should have just let Patch go when she wanted him to. (When she was still alive to tell him to.) 

Instead he’d turned her over. Watched the blood stop flowing from the gunshot through her chest. Caressed her face one last time.

There was too much evidence for the cops to leave him alone. He knew that. They’d probably try to get him on all those other minor charges he’d been dodging too. (Hey. Vigilantism required some trespassing sometimes. And some breaking and entering. And a few parking tickets. But only a few.)

Anything could clear his name. Her real killers had to be the ones who’d attacked the Academy a few days back. The pair in the animal masks, the ones in the suits.

Diego swears he’ll take them out the first chance he gets. Both of them, no matter which one fired the shot.

But then the cops are on his tail, and Allison needs to get away.

So he gives himself up.

A nice cold jail cell for the night. Nice. When Patch’s actual killers might be  _ getting away _ .

He can escape pretty easily. He’s done it before. But, maybe, this time…. he deserved it. A night to sit and think over where he went wrong. (A night to think about Patch. A night to wonder where he went wrong. A night where he can try to maybe calm down. It won’t happen, but he can try.)

Patch wouldn’t want him to be taking revenge, would she? She’d always looked down on what he did, preferring to follow the law.

And the one time she’d taken things into her own hands, followed his way like he wanted, she ended up dead on the ground, blood soaking her clothes. (Bloody footprints on the carpet. Bloody fingerprints on her clothes.)

He couldn’t just not hunt the pair down. Diego owed it to her, even if she’d have hated it. (She’d always hated what he did.) But maybe then it was time to put the knives down for a while.

(It was what she would have wanted, wasn’t it?)


	18. you wanna see how far down i can sink?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Vanya's time in the cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who finally realized chapter summaries are probably a good thing to have and will now be adding them at the start of all the past chapters? yeah it's me. whoops
> 
> time: s1ep9
> 
> warnings: some more of reginald's a+ parenting
> 
> prompt: panic attacks

It’s dark in her cell, and it’s cold, and it’s far too quiet. 

The minutes since everyone left Vanya alone, buried under tons of rock, deep under the house, feel like hours. The only sound is her own breathing, harsh from crying and definitely too fast to be normal.

She’s trapped. She’s  _ trapped _ and none of them are ever going to come back and let her out.

There are flashes of Vanya’s childhood coming back to her, things she’d long forgotten. The first time Reginald had ever locked her in here.

_ I’ve made a special place just for you, Number Seven. _

A mile long descent she hadn’t yet learned to fear with her entire self. Her father’s hand curled around her shoulder in a way that could almost have been seen as loving if his fingers hadn’t been digging in so much it hurt.

Four years old, locked behind an inch thick metal door with a single window, wondering what she’d done so wrong that she needed to be away from the rest of her family.

(Wondering what she’d done that was so wrong that she needed to be kept away from the only special thing she’d ever been able to do.)

It’s been twenty five years since then, and the room’s only gotten worse for Vanya since then.

The first time, the  _ only _ time, she’d been kept in there for over two weeks. The rumor came on day fifteen of  _ silence _ where there’d been so much noise before.

This time, there was no Reginald Hargreeves to decide she’d had enough time locked away. There was only Luther, and he wouldn’t even give his sister a chance to explain anything to him.

There couldn’t even be a rumor to end it all this time. Vanya had made sure of that.

It might never end, this time around. They might think of her as too dangerous to be let out.

They might leave her in her own cell for the rest of her life.

The thought of it, of  _ never escaping, not ever,  _ leaves her shaking on the floor. Vanya can’t  _ breathe. _

It makes her want the meds back, for a second. At least then she hadn’t had panic attacks, or memories she never wanted, or the ability to destroy things without even thinking.

Her heart is pounding in her ears and she can’t control her own breathing. There’s a band around her chest and  _ is it getting tighter or is she just imagining it or _ -

Vanya needs to get  _ out. _

So she throws herself at the door one final time, screaming and banging, but  _ nobody’s coming. _

Nobody.

And they never will again.

(“They’re all afraid of us,” she hears. The first human voice she hears in fifteen minutes, the only noise that wasn’t made by her, and it’s  _ her own younger voice. _ )

(If Number Seven is the only one who will talk to Vanya, then she might as well listen.)


	19. i’m sorry how it ends this way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Vanya's concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. uhhhh. i have no excuse for this one. but it'll make a whole lot more sense if you've read my other fic [the light behind your eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26020459)
> 
> time: just after the end of the other fic
> 
> warnings: major character death, some implied suicidal thoughts
> 
> prompt: survivor's guilt

She doesn’t let herself breathe until she’s standing outside the Icarus Theater.

Vanya desperately needs time to process the rush of white that the past few hours have been to her. It’s all been a colorless blur since the cell, with spots of clarity in between.

_ Her siblings are laying on the ground inside. _

_ They’re dead. All of them, this time. _

_ She killed them. _

_ She hadn’t meant to kill them, only to stop them, but she couldn’t stop herself and- _

Back inside she goes. 

Four of her six siblings lie on the ground, broken and bloody. (Ben had been dead already, and Allison…. the cabin. Right.) 

She’s barely taken a look at them in the past few years, ever since the book, and the difference is recognizable. 

Five looks way too young to be gone, eyes vacant and glassy as he stares into the far corner of the room, the same boy who’d run away at thirteen and never looked back. (He’d looked back so many times, it wasn’t even countable anymore.)

Diego has new scars, of course he does. Last she’d checked in he’d been in training at the police academy, but Vanya had heard that wasn’t exactly working out for him. His better knife arm — his left — is twisted underneath him where he lays, blood splattered on his forehead. 

Luther has the ape body she’d seen back at the Academy the first time. (Had she ever actually asked how that happened?) He’d seemed so large when she’d last seen him, towering over her, and he still does, laying on the ground, but there’s something missing. (It wasn’t exactly as if anyone knew the story anymore. She’d killed anyone who might possibly know)

Klaus has new tattoos, doesn’t he? New since the funeral, and not  _ new. _ (She’d never know how that happened.) Even now, even dead in a way he should never be (her brother who controls ghosts, who controls death itself, even) looks her directly in the eyes, accusing.  _ Vanya, how could you do this to us? We trusted you. _

That’s when she finally breaks down.

She sinks to her knees, and the tears can’t be stopped. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m  _ sorry. _ It should have been me.”

Luther could’ve just snapped her neck back in the Academy, and this all would have been over. 

Maybe he should have.

There were so many times when all of this could have been stopped. If Leonard had never found that book. If Allison had never come to the cabin. If Dad hadn’t died  _ right then. _

If she’d never been adopted in the first place. If Reginald Hargreeves had decided she was worth more dead than with her powers suppressed.

There’s nothing that can be changed now, though. She wasn’t the one who could time travel. That’s a power reserved for ghosts now.

For now, there’s only the tears that run down her face.


	20. you are never coming home (never coming home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hargreeves are lost in Dallas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone who's left a comment on this so far: ily
> 
> time: s2
> 
> warnings: none
> 
> prompt: lost

The seven of them jump from a stage in 2019 with the sky falling on their heads to a Dallas alley in the 1960s. The world is unfamiliar, and they’re scattered through time, and none of them know if the others survived.

Klaus has Ben, but the rest land alone.

Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe if they’d all landed together the past would have been brought back up too soon. But, in this timeline, all they know is that each of them is so, so  _ alone. _

(Except Vanya, who doesn’t remember anything or anyone. Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe it’s better that overusing her powers left her with amnesia, or was it the car crash? Whatever reason, the apocalypse isn’t mentioned to her for a full month after she lands, and it’s  _ much _ better that way.)

It’s not all that different from how they’d been living before: lonely lives, without their siblings, without many people in general (except Allison, of course). But somehow, after a week of actually spending time around people, suddenly being alone is….  _ jarring. _

None of them know if the others survived.

Luther spends nearly a year checking that original alley daily for the others. Nobody ever shows up. 

(Diego falls from the sky a week after he stops, but Luther doesn’t find that out for months afterwards.) 

Allison spends night after night looking up at the moon, making sure it’s still there. Making sure it isn’t falling on her head, destroying the world again. (Making sure Vanya hasn’t been pushed back to her breaking point.) It lasts so long that Raymond notices and buys her a book. (“So you can see it during the day, too.”)

Klaus (and, by extension, Ben) run, just on instinct alone. Lost in a strange time, in a city they’ve never visited in their lives (or deaths), instinct drives them both to something familiar. (Well. To  _ start _ something familiar, just to have something to hold onto.) Destiny’s Children might technically be Klaus’s, but there’s a part of Ben in there too.

Diego manages to find something to hold onto in the quest to save Kennedy. The quest to be the hero he’d been back in the City. It gets him thrown into an asylum, but he can get out. He can always get out.

Vanya finds a place for herself with the woman whose car hit her on her first day in Dallas. Her life is a total blank, and she gets splitting headaches whenever she tries to think back too far, but Sissy is nice to her, she’s all but employed taking care of Harlan, and Carl let her stay, so it can’t be too bad, right? (Taking care of Harlan and talking with Sissy late into the night, sharing secrets and cigarettes, leaves her the calmest she’s ever been. Vanya really could get used to this, and she wanted it to last as long as it possibly could.)

All six of them find their rock in the current: a place to sit, to hold onto when everything else gets swept away.

Of course, it doesn’t help once Five shows up. It doesn’t help when those rocks in the current start moving with the water.

Nothing ever really helps once the flood starts.

It never helps once they’re lost again.


	21. do what it takes to survive (cause i’m still here)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe cutting the tracker out of his own arm hadn't been Five's best idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am once again saying that i have absolutely zero medical knowledge-
> 
> time: sometime near the end of s1
> 
> warnings: mentions of some medical stuff
> 
> prompt: infection

Five’s walked off worse injuries than this one. Back in the Apocalypse, it had gotten a bit hard to find medical supplies after… a decade or so? And the Commission hadn’t always been the best place to avoid pain, no matter how good of an assassin he was. 

He’s no stranger to infection, though. (Again… the Apocalypse had been pretty rough.)

The knife he’d used to cut the tracker out of his arm had been clean, he’d been pretty sure of it. Vanya had cleaned it for him only hours later. There’s no reason for it to be changing color along the edges. There’s no reason for it to not be healing even slightly after almost a week.

Griddy’s had always been a shithole, even when Five had been an actual kid. (Back when the seven of them would sneak out together and eat donuts ‘til they puked.) At this point, he should’ve known better than to trust a knife from any form of diner. They never cleaned well enough.

Point was, if he didn’t get this fixed soon enough, it would be…. not good.

So he goes to Grace.

Their mom never actually asked questions (she wasn’t programmed to, not about injuries) but, for Five’s entire childhood (he grew up the moment he first stepped foot in 2019, the first time through) she’d been the one patching the team up after missions and training sessions.

Maybe he thought she was a bit too affectionate, but Five didn’t really care anymore. It had been forty three years since he’d seen her. He could take a little bit of not-so-human contact if he had to.

“Grace.”

Grace turns with that typical smile on her lips. “Yes?”

“I, uh. Need a bit of help in the infirmary.” He didn’t. Five could do this on his own if he wanted to, actually. He probably should.

“Of course, dear,” she says. (No questions. That’s what he’d always liked about her.)

Just minutes later, she’s sealing a new bandage over the cut on his arm, freshly cleaned and (hopefully) on its way to healing. Grace has always been quick, too. With six (seven) children to take care of sometimes, she had to be.

“Thanks, Mom,” Five says quietly.

She sweeps a hand through his hair. (When was the last time he’d actually felt a friendly touch? One that wasn’t imagined?) “I’m always here when you need me, sweetie. It’s what your father made me for.”

“Of course.” Mom’s far more than what Reginald made her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an apocalypse to prevent.”


	22. i took the pills for these empty nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes. this chapter, or as i like to call it, "i have no medical knowledge: part 3"
> 
> time: s1ep4
> 
> warnings: literally the entire thing revolves around drug use
> 
> prompt: withdrawal

Torture, honestly, is normal for a Hargreeves. It’s something Klaus can take.

He can take  _ anything _ , he thinks, as long as he’s high. It’s when he’s sober that he actually has to care.

But now it’s been over ten hours tied to a chair. Ten hours with his two masked torturers, and the room’s edges are starting to lose that haze (that sweet, comforting haze) that they’d had.

Something else would fix it. Take away all the pain, leave him back with that haze. There were pills in the jacket of his coat, sitting just feet away on a table behind him. They’d brought it in and set it down when they thought he was unconscious. 

Bit hard to get to when Klaus’s hands were tied to a chair.

If Ben was alive, he could maybe grab them for Klaus. (He would  _ never _ . Ben hated the drugs.) But he isn’t alive, he’s been dead for thirteen years now, Klaus’s only constant companion, and he’s sitting on the hotel couch in the same clothes he’s worn since his death unable to touch anything

Klaus’s coat stays on the table, out of sight and out of reach.

Until the assassin duo, Hazel and Cha Cha, decides it’s a good idea to use it all against him, and then he’s watching all hope of another high go down the drain. (Or, well, get stomped into the carpet.) It hurts to watch, no matter how much he laughs it off to Ben, and he gives them  _ everything. _

(No dignity left. Give them everything.)

They leave to find Five (and they take the chocolate, the chocolate that had been his last hope) and they lock him in the  _ closet. _ (Hadn’t he gotten out of there  _ years _ ago? Metaphorically, of course.) 

And he’s stuck there. Stuck in the hotel closet, duct tape slapped haphazardly over his mouth (and yet it blocks everything, leaves him unable to speak and barely able to breathe) with Ben’s ghostly hands hovering uselessly over the ropes, passing through whenever Klaus jerks at them hard enough for Ben to try one more time to untie him.

It’s hell. It’s hell, it’s hell, he  _ never meant to be sober, _ and the dark and the quiet (other than Ben’s voice, trying so, so hard to calm Klaus down, because bad things happen when he panics) are bringing back memories of the mausoleum again, the second time that day. 

Nobody’s coming. They never would. (They never will.) But he’ll get out. He knows he can. And then he’ll find something, some stash of his back in the Academy or somewhere else.

Klaus will drive the ghosts away again. It’ll all be okay.

It’ll all be okay when he’s high again.


	23. quietly i’ll sleep behind the wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi? how has it been 23 days already? i thought i started posting this like. last week
> 
> time: post-s2
> 
> warnings: none
> 
> prompt: sleep deprivation

Vanya hasn’t managed to sleep in three days. Every time she tries, the end of the world flashes behind her eyelids.

She wasn’t even awake to see the end coming for Earth, passed out on the stage of the Icarus Theater in her black-turned-white suit. There’d been enough details from the others that she could imagine it, though. Could imagine watching the rocks break apart, could imagine watching them hurtle to the ground below.

Imagined memories. What a thing to get trapped in.

Any attempt at actual sleep leads to her jolting awake within half an hour, left more exhausted than she’d been before she passed out. Vanya stopped trying somewhere around the fifth time in one night. She’s  _ tired, _ and all she wants is one night of sleep, but apparently her brain isn’t going to let her do that.

It’s been under a week since the FBI building, under a week since they’d come back to 2019 and found the Sparrow Academy where they should have found an empty house, and under a week since she’d remembered her entire life before Sissy. (Under a week since the life she’d built herself had toppled down around her.) All she wants is to be able to  _ sleep _ .

Her siblings had more experience with this. While she’d been at home, practicing violin and getting locked in her room, they’d been out on missions. Vanya had heard them sometimes at night, just as unable to sleep as she was now.

She could technically just wake Allison up and ask for a rumor, she knows. (She can’t. The thought of Allison rumoring her sends a chill down her spine. Not again. Never again. Not willingly.) A dreamless sleep is definitely tempting. But instead, Vanya does her best to roll over in bed and shut her eyes.

She’ll pass out eventually. It always happens.


	24. and if you could talk to me, tell me if it’s so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison can't speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this the first allison-centric one? i think this might be the first allison-centric one. whoops
> 
> time: end of s1
> 
> warnings: mentions of drowning and past injuries
> 
> prompt: forced mutism

Allison wakes up with one thing on her mind.  _ Need to tell them all. _

She tries to speak and a searing pain crosses her throat. The wound from Vanya’s violin bow was covered by a bandage when she reached up and tried to touch it, but the memories of drowning on her own blood stayed. They’d always stay.

Luther was by her bedside (of course he was) reaching for her hand as soon as he’d noticed she was moving. “Don’t. Don’t try to speak.” He handed her a notepad and a pen instead.

She’d love to have just written out the whole story, right then and there, but writing was  _ slow _ and she needed to know what had happened while she was unconscious.  _ And _ she needed to tell them everything.  _ Vanya _ , the page said. What it really said was  _ How much do you know? What were you told? What happened? _

Luther didn’t get it. He almost  _ never _ got it, not unless one of the others pointed it out to him. So she added to the message.  _ Powers? _ ( _ Do you know? About them? About her? _ )

Pogo steps in to explain so she doesn’t have to, no frantic scribbling in an attempt to get everything down before Luther could start assuming the things she couldn’t tell him fast enough. (Pogo had known the entire time. Of course he had. Any other world changing secrets he was keeping, or was it just that handful?)

He lays everything bare. Everything from when they were bought by Hargreeves to…. just about the present day. (Or at least she  _ thinks _ it’s everything. It’s hard to tell with Pogo sometimes. Hard to read a face when none of the usual cues are there.) The powers, the meds, the cell.

Luther leaves, and then within half an hour she finds out. Vanya had come back to the Academy. Luther had intercepted her and put her in the cell.  _ Where she can’t hurt us again _ , he’d said.  _ Because she’s a danger. A risk. _

Rumors don’t work over paper. She’d found that out when she was young, trying to leave sneaky messages for her siblings. It meant she was completely powerless now, as long as her voice was useless. (They’d said she might never speak again. Was this how Vanya had always felt? Ordinary?)

So she did what she could. No rumors, so she’d just have to  _ ask. _

_ Let her out,  _ she wrote, as Luther tried to block her view of Vanya near-begging at the door, face agonized. Allison tries shoving at him, trying to get him out of the way. No luck.

When the house starts shaking, Allison knows she could have stopped it.

When Vanya had smiled at her at the concert? She’d been so hopeful. She’d looked into her sister’s white eyes and smiled back, hoping beyond hope that Vanya was still there.

She could have stopped it if she still had her voice. She could have stopped the apocalypse. 

But instead she holds a gun to her sister’s head and wonders exactly where everything went wrong.


	25. raise your glass high for tomorrow we die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Standing next to a tank is typically a very bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time: s2ep1
> 
> warnings: none, i'm pretty sure
> 
> prompt(s): disorientation/ringing ears

Maybe standing next to a tank in the middle of a war zone hadn’t been the best of ideas.

The explosion when it fires rips through Five’s head, nearly sending him to the ground with volume alone. For a minute, the world is just static, watching as his siblings take on the Soviet Union seemingly by themselves. (When had they gotten so strong? All five- no,  _ six, _ Ben was visible and standing on a rooftop- of them were using abilities he’d never seen before, not once.)

And then it’s still static. And then it’s  _ still  _ static.

Hazel’s words only barely make it through the haze.  _ Come with me if you want to live. _

“What about my family?”

_ Those are… nukes? _

No. He’s going to lose them again.  _ Again. _

Hazel’s grabbed Five by the hand and activated his briefcase by the time this fully sinks in.

Hurtling through time, no matter how quick or controlled it is, would mess with anyone’s head. Doing it twice within…. five or so minutes? After nearly being shot in the head by a tank, having transported five-maybe-six adults plus himself fifty five years into the past? After living through one of the longest weeks of his life?

Five’s knees nearly give out under him when they land. 

Usually, he’s got a perfect time sense. (The Commission made sure of that.) Now, he has no clue when he is.

_ Ten days before,  _ he makes out.

And then Hazel’s getting shot, and there’s something being slipped into Five’s pocket, but he can’t tell past the goddamn  _ ringing. _

His head is spinning and his ears are ringing and all he wants is to be able to pass out.

No time, though. He has another apocalypse to prevent.


	26. you sing the words but don’t know what it means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you fight against someone who can do the same things you can?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time: s2ep10
> 
> warnings: descriptions of suffocation
> 
> prompt: blindness

Allison had never been on the other end of her own powers before Lila showed up. (None of them had.)

All it took was seven words. Seven words to change her entire view on herself forever.

“I heard a rumor you stopped breathing.”

And just for a second, when the first words spill from Lila’s mouth, the world is horribly, terrifyingly blank, eclipsed by black.

For just a second, Allison Hargreeves is blind.

And then she’s falling to the ground, desperately trying to force air into lungs that won’t respond no matter how desperately she tries to breathe. Lila smirks and walks away above her, leaving her alone and struggling.

She’s never had to think about this.  _ How do I undo a rumor? _

She’s never undone one. Once she makes a choice, once she speaks it into existence, it  _ stays. _ No matter how much it’s regretted later.

_...Is there even a way? _

Trying to fix it with another rumor would require speaking… and there isn’t enough air in her lungs for that. Allison’s wheezing on the ground, head starting to spin, and she can’t  _ breathe. _

Luther’s there, running in by her side, pressing his lips to hers and forcing air into her lungs, enough to keep the darkness at the corners of her vision from forcing her to go blind once again. (How had she never realized that when their eyes went white, their vision went black?) But she still  _ can’t breathe _ .

_ Come on, Allison. You just need to start breathing again. _

And it takes a full, agonizing minute, but she manages a shuddery gasp. Luther leans back, letting her breathe on her own.

No more rumors.  _ No more. _ If that’s what being on the receiving end is like… Allison never wants anyone to have to feel like that. (Just because this time it wasn’t her, it was Lila, doesn’t mean she hadn’t caused harm in the past. Look at her siblings, who she’d rumored at Reginald’s request multiple times. Look at Vanya.)

No time for sitting around, though. Lila needs to be stopped.


	27. drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands romeo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya finally gets to play her concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "you've written this scene twice now in two separate fics" and what about it? 
> 
> time: s1ep10
> 
> warnings: none, i believe
> 
> prompt: earthquake

The theater shakes around them all like the house had.

Vanya knows she’s the one causing it. She’s the one shaking the world.

It’s one of the best things she’s ever felt.

The world is narrowed to her and the violin, yet at the same time widened to  _ everything. _ The sound of the breeze blowing along the buildings outside, the footsteps of the gunmen doing their best to kill her siblings, the breathing of the siblings trying their hardest to kill  _ her. _

_ Keep playing. Fingers on the strings, remember the piece you’ve practiced so many dozens of times before this. Maybe if you play well enough, they’ll finally stop to actually listen. _

They’ll never stop to listen.

The world around her shakes, but it doesn’t bother Vanya. Nothing ever would again. Not if she played this piece right.

_ If none of them can get close to you, they can never hurt you.  _

Using her power  _ consciously _ is like finally letting herself out of the cage she’d been kept in. Vanya could never go back to how she’d been before. Couldn’t go back to being numb when now she could feel  _ everything. _

White light floods the room around her, and even through her focus on her playing, eyes closed in concentration, she can tell it’s coming from  _ her. _

The room shakes and Vanya glows and bullets rain from the balconies, but Vanya doesn’t care. It all comes together, adds to the music she’s making. 

The world is her orchestra, and she’s playing first chair for the first time in her life.

For one moment, just  _ one moment _ , the world is hers.

Then her siblings run straight at her, and it’s all shattered in an instant. 

She picks the four of them up, holds them in front of her in the air. The world still shakes, the orchestra keeps playing, but its lead violinist has put her instrument down.

Cold metal settles itself on the back of her neck, but Vanya pays no attention to it. Why would she, when the one thing she’d been trying to accomplish is gone and will never come back?

But then the gun shifts and fires, an explosion next to her ear, and the world’s orchestra breaks into dissonance. 

It’s too much. It’s all  _ too much. _

Too much power, too much noise, too  _ much. _

In one last effort to save it all, she launches everything she can’t handle far, far away.

The world stops shaking when Vanya falls to the ground, violin clattering to the ground next to her.

She doesn’t see anything more.


	28. wouldn’t it be grand, ain’t it exactly what you planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number Two slips during training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last diego chapter.... how has this month gone by so fast. i am genuinely asking
> 
> time: pre-s1
> 
> warnings: some blood
> 
> prompt: accidents

Their father always insisted he had to get better with knives if he ever wanted to have value.

To be a true part of the Umbrella Academy, they needed powers, and they needed to train. Father always insisted Number Two would never have a true place if he refused to learn how to throw, if he refused to pick up a knife in training.

“If you ever wish to beat Number One at anything, you  _ must _ train, Number Two!” (He’d never be Number One. He always knew that. None of the rest of their numbers ever changed, so why should he even try?)

(He always kept trying.)

Maybe he can’t speak clearly without effort like the others do (and oh, how he hates that) but Number Two knows how knives work, how to keep them sharp, and, most importantly to Father, how to throw accurately. It’s his power, of course he knows. If he wanted to, he could hit the stopwatch out of Father’s hand during training without leaving a single mark on the man.

(If he weren’t too afraid to do it.)

But even inhuman accuracy, trajectory manipulation, can’t protect Number Two from his own mistakes. Inhuman powers don’t make him  _ inhuman _ . He’s just as human as everyone else, at the end of it all. (Not that anyone seems to see that, always pushing him harder and harder just for that one inhuman part of himself.)

When he slips, he should have seen it coming.

His father’s had him in training for… three hours, now? Time seems to blur in the training room, stretching and compressing itself until counting becomes meaningless. But his arm is getting  _ tired, _ repeated knife throwing leaving his muscles shaky and begging for rest.

His next attempt at a throw leaves a deep red line down the middle of his palm, a new cut to join the already-healed scars dotting his fingers. The blood drips down his fingertips, the knife clattering to the floor with a noise that manages to make Father look up from where he’d been writing.

“Number Two. Why have you stopped?”

Wordless, he holds up his hand. A trail of his own blood snakes its way down his sleeve. 

The book is shut with a snap that echoes through the quiet room. “I expect better than this from you, Number Two. You should not be injuring yourself anymore.”

No. He shouldn’t be. Because if Father says it, then it must be true.

Right?

His face is as stern as ever, but Two can tell Father is disappointed in him when he sends him away to have Mom fix up his hand. (Father is almost always disappointed. None of them ever seem good enough for him, except Number One and sometimes Number Three.)

Accidents happen, but some people just don’t seem to understand that. Especially not Father.

All any of them ever wanted was to be good enough for him.


	29. have you heard the news that you’re dead?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's supposed to die.
> 
> He doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this was entirely because i wanted a ben lives au what about it
> 
> time: pre-s1
> 
> warnings: mentions of canonical character death
> 
> prompt: reluctant bedrest

In one universe, Ben Hargreeves dies on a mission at seventeen years old. The body his siblings bring back to the Academy is barely recognizable.

In this universe, he makes it out completely intact, Horror and all.

It was a rough few minutes. It really was, what with the Horror deciding to…..

_ Completely intact _ didn’t mean  _ completely alright _ though. Ben’s still rushed back to the Academy at top speed. The blood loss was pretty severe, thanks to the Horror, and it needed to be fixed  _ immediately _ .

Ben’s left on bed rest for several days afterwards.

It’s not much of a bother for him. He’d always preferred reading a book over running around with the others.

It’s a bother for  _ Reginald. _

The Horror had always been unruly, but never like  _ this. _ Never turning on its own host.

How did one deal with a superpower that wanted its owner dead? How was it supposed to be controlled and trained?

Plans needed to be remade to accommodate this new difficulty.

But, for now, Ben’s being left alone by Reginald for the first time in his life. 

In an ideal world, Five would have been there too. He would have still been at home, spending time with his two closest friends. But he wasn’t there. He’d made the smart decision and run when they were thirteen. 

Five-Six-Seven really could never be complete without Five.

Ben and Vanya end up spending more time together than usual. Neither one of them have training, even though Vanya sometimes gets brought in to help Reginald, and even just being in the same room as someone else is preferable to being alone.

(Ben doesn’t want to be alone with the Horror. He’s always been afraid of the creature that makes its home inside him, but now, knowing it could and  _ would _ kill him at any moment, it was so,  _ so _ much worse.)

When they were ten years old, when Vanya had picked up the violin for the very first time, Ben had found that music calmed the Horror. It had been after a particularly bad training session, one that had left him hiding in his room, curled into a ball in an effort to keep some control over himself. Their rooms hadn’t even shared a wall, Father spacing them apart in an effort to keep them away from each other, Vanya on one end of the hall, Ben on the other and Five on the floor above, but he’d still been able to hear every note as she practiced.

After a while, he’d been able to get her to practice in his room on some of the bad days. (But never the really bad ones. Never the ones where he might actually lose control. Never when there was a chance Vanya might get hurt.)

Now, seven years later, with what’s possibly the highest risk there’s ever been, she’s still willing to play for him. For her closest friend.

Maybe it’s more than he deserves, but he’ll accept it while he can. If the Horror is calm, then it isn’t trying to  _ kill him _ . If it’s calm, then he can get some rest.

If it’s calm, he can spend time with the few people in his life that he cares about.

He can spend time with his family.


	30. they could care less as long as someone’ll bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only been two weeks for Five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "stop writing fics where five's hiding injuries-" no. i will not
> 
> time: post-s2 (no sparrows au)
> 
> warnings: some blood
> 
> prompt(s): wound reveal/ignoring an injury

Five feels like he’s about to pass out.

At this point, his entire focus is on staying on his feet and making sure nobody notices he isn’t okay. The past two weeks for him, everything since coming back to 2019 and seeing his family for the first time in forty five years, have been  _ rough. _ He’s barely slept, he’s barely eaten, and he’s watched his family die. Twice. Now all he has to do is hold on until they all leave him alone, settled back in their childhood mansion, and he can fix himself up.

If he makes it that long, of course. Which he will. He’s done it before, back at the Commission.

(And he’s only re-opened a  _ few _ old injuries. Just a handful. Three or four, max. Maybe five.)

The rest of his family (the ones who made it back to 2019, of course…. so everyone but Ben, basically) decides that for once in their lives, they’re all going to sit down and do something as a family. A little celebration, just to say “hey we stopped the apocalypse(s)!” Or maybe “Vanya didn’t blow things up this time!” One or the other. They basically meant the same thing, after all.

Five sits himself down in a chair as soon as he possibly can, saying he was just a bit tired. And that worked, for a while. The rest of them laughed and chatted, seeming to actually be a  _ family _ for the first time in their lives.

He was starting to get a bit light headed, dizzy from the blood loss and hoping to play it off as tiredness, when Vanya noticed the bloodstain starting to spread across the front of his uniform.

“Five?” Her voice was gentle, trying to catch his attention, but underlaid with just a hint of panic. “What’s that?”

He glanced down, finally noticing the slow spread of dark liquid across the front of his vest. “Shit.”  _ Didn’t get out fast enough. _ He tries to wave his siblings away, each of them slowly coming to notice what Vanya’s pointed out to them all. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“It’s very clearly not nothing, Five!” Allison. She’d spent years taking care of her own daughter, and clearly it had stuck. Five just wished he didn’t look so  _ young _ now. He was fifty-eight, dammit, not thirteen. He could take care of himself. And all he needed right now was some time  _ alone _ to clean himself up.

“Like hell you do. We aren’t leaving you alone.” Diego. Always so determined to be a member of a team. But then again, he’d had one for more than half of his life. Five had been alone for so long he’d almost forgotten what having an actual team was like. (And he’d survived  _ perfectly fine _ without one.)

Wait. Had he said that out loud? Because last time Five checked, Diego wasn’t a mind reader.

The world is starting to get a bit hazy around the edges, seconds blurring into each other. Five blinks and suddenly he’s being carried by Luther, heading towards the infirmary. Normally he’d hate being carried like that, probably try to jump away. He was  _ Number Five, _ temporal assassin, not some kid who needed to be carried like a sack of potatoes. But… for once it’s nice to not have to go all that way himself. Plus, he probably didn’t have the energy to jump right now, even if he wanted to.

Another blink and he’s being set down on a bed, Allison trying to gently lift the edge of his shirt to see why he’s actually bleeding. Five tries to swat her hand away, but can’t quite manage to get her to stop.

“ _ Jesus, _ Five! Is that the same bullet wound from Jenkins’ place?” (He might be out of it, but he still catches Vanya’s flinch when she hears his name. It might have been over a month for her since she last saw him, but her memories only came back the day before. It’s all still fresh for her.)

He doesn’t meet Allison’s eyes. “It might be.”

“Five. Look at me.” He does. “How long has it been for you?”

“Since what? Since I saw you all again for the first time in forty-five years? Or since I ended up in 1963? Because there’s only about a week between those two.”

“Five….”

“It’s been a week since 2019. The first time.”

He feels self conscious with his shirt pulled up like it is, showing off his wounds to the world (a handful of… stab wounds? bullet grazes? both? and way more bruises than should be on a thirteen year old body) but maybe it’s better this way. Better to let his siblings actually know what’s going on instead of keeping things from them. For once.

Most of the rest of his family’s left the room, probably sensing his discomfort and trying to help out, leaving Five with just Vanya and Allison. (In an ideal world, Ben would be there with him too, but he doesn’t let himself think about that too much. Five-Six-Seven had always been closest with each other.) Disoriented as he might be, he still manages to catch both of their reactions to what he says. 

Vanya won’t meet his eyes. (She’d been there a month and thought it was the shortest of everyone.)

Allison stares. (Two years might not have been long  _ enough _ , but it was at least enough time for old wounds to heal.)

“Five. We’re getting you fixed up. Right now. And then you’re going to  _ relax. _ Because I’m willing to bet you’ve been pushing yourself way too hard for the past two weeks, and you _ need _ a break.”

He shouldn’t, but… it’s nice to not have to move for once.

It’s been forty five years since Number Five was truly able to rest. Maybe for once he’ll actually be able to stay.


	31. what will it take to show you that it’s not the life it seems?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reginald won't leave Klaus alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow okay it's... really weird to see 31/31 on the chapter number actually. doesn't feel like this should be ending already
> 
> i would just like to thank anyone who's stuck with this for the whole thing, especially anyone who's left a comment. yall are Cool
> 
> time: pre-s1
> 
> warnings: reginald's parenting, mentions of alcohol use
> 
> prompt: experiments

_ “Klaus was so sweet and vulnerable as a boy, but Father experimented on him the most, and it changed him. He became cruel as a teenager — even worse, the older he gets.” _

_ -from Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven by Vanya Hargreeves _

Reginald won’t leave him alone.

Klaus is tired of his prodding, day in and day out. He wants to know  _ everything _ about Number Four’s powers, he says.

The ghosts scare Klaus, but Reginald just seems fascinated. (Klaus wishes he could just make Father  _ see  _ them. Maybe he’d know why Klaus felt how he did if he could actually see them. The death wounds, babbling in language after language at all hours of the night. He sees things nobody else can, and it’s slowly driving him insane, he thinks.)

He gets locked in the mausoleum for the first time and gives up on sanity right then and there. What’s the point, when all he can see is their faces and all he can hear is their screams? How’s he supposed to “just get over it” when they’re always there?

Reginald says he wants Number Four to learn more about his powers. To push them and develop them even more. Why do that? Why care when he could just… not?

That’s when he finds out alcohol dulls the ghosts.

If he can’t think, he can’t see them or hear them, right?

It all slowly starts driving him apart from his family. Reginald had been mostly tolerant of him (well… as tolerant as Reginald Hargreeves could be) back when he’d been sober, back when he still used his powers willingly, back when he still  _ could _ . And of course, because dear old Dad disapproves, Luther does too. Allison follows quickly after, because those two are  _ joined at the hip _ and it would be almost cute if they weren’t siblings. Diego, trying so hard to win their father’s approval and end up as Number One, ends up on their side too.

Five’s gone by then, so he’s left with Ben and Vanya. Then Ben dies, Vanya moves out, and he’s got nobody.

It’s its own form of torture, loneliness. Maybe he summoned Ben’s ghost back from the edge in a last-minute desperate bid to get his  _ brother _ back, but having one total person to talk to gets… a bit stale after a while.

Everyone thinks he’s insane, too. (Maybe, after all this time, he finally is.)

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on tumblr: [@sparrowvanya](https://sparrowvanya.tumblr.com/)


End file.
